The Aftermath: Petalpaw
by wolveswolvesandmorewolves
Summary: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ FALLING TWIG. Everyone knows that I ran away from RiverClan because of Stoneheart. But nobody knows what happened to me in the moons that followed. I'm miles away from RiverClan now, my new name is Petal, and while I might be a kittypet on the outside, anyone who has met a warrior knows I'm a true RiverClan cat at heart. Now I just have to choose.
1. Epilogue

I was walking along the side of a small Thunderpath, the twilight sun seeming to turn my pelt a pretty auburn color and my eyes glimmer. The hard concrete beneath my paws sent little sparks of pain through my nerves, and I paused to inspect them. Grit and dirt and StarClan knows what else were lodged deep into the soft skin of my paw, and blood oozed out from small puncture marks. Leaning down, I gave them a good licking to try to get it out, although I knew it was no use: the concrete stretch was filthier than anything I've ever known before I ran away.

Even now, I still find it hard to believe that I had chosen to run away from my own home. That I couldn't handle it and had to leave just so I would be safe. I could handle myself, could fight pretty well. It wasn't like I needed protecting from my own nightmares: I was about as tough as a badger when it came to my territory.

While a part of me knew that leaving was stupid, I also knew it was smart. Something wasn't right with RiverClan, and I was entangled somehow with it. Twigpaw and Thymepaw had been thinking not about themselves, but for everyone else. And I was grateful that I was far away from Stoneheart.

His name still sent shivers of fear through me, even though I was miles away. I had been through several patches of Twoleg nests, not daring to escape into the forest, moving from patch to patch as my old life seemed to grow smaller behind me with every step. It didn't seem right to leave everyone else behind, but I trusted Twigpaw to know what he was doing.

My stomach suddenly growled, breaking my thoughts as I licked my dry muzzle. It had been two days since I had eaten anything actually fulfilling (a squirrel that had happened to practically run across my paws a few Twoleg patches ago) and I could already feel the fatigue dragging me down. I needed to eat something soon if I planned to keep moving until I was absolutely sure I could let my guard down.

Then I heard it, a noise so soft it was hardly detectable. Something lapping at water, and as I listened I immediately felt hope rising in my heart. I began to pick up my pace, heading for the next Twoleg nest over.

When I reached it, I saw a white fence barring my way. They were kind of like borders that were much more physical than territorial, like they were just there for the Twolegs to be able to tell that this was their territory or not. I've seen Twolegs yell at each other happily over it, like it didn't even exist. Pretty weird to me.

Lucky for me, this fence was about half the size than the ones I normally see. Easy to jump up to the top of, if I did it right. Coiling my muscles up, I got ready to spring, bending my back legs before leaping high. I made it to the top, and scrambled to pull the rest of my body up before I slipped off. Pulling myself together, I surveyed the scene before me.

Grass filled the entire space that the nest didn't, each blade oddly looking the same height. Flowers bloomed in patches, every patch different from the others. A small post stood in the middle of it all, a small object perched on top of it. As I watched, a small bird flew right into the object, vanishing inside it, like it was its home or something. A couple bees buzzed lazily around the flowers, looking fat and round from here.

"Well, hello." An arrogant voice said beneath me, and I looked down, surprised. A tortoiseshell tom sat below me, tail flicking idly in the air. His green eyes seemed to pierce right through me. "Never seen you before."

But I wasn't looking at him anymore. Near the nest, a small pool of water surrounded by grey stones looked inviting, and I felt like racing over there so I could drain it whole. My mouth, which felt like sand before, now began to drool as I something orange flickered near the surface of the black water –a fish. Dinner and a drink, right there in front of me.

I was on unfamiliar territory though. I couldn't tell if the cat below me was hostile, if he would let me drink and hunt. Form my small but growing experience with Twolegs and kittypets, chances of that happening were very small. It was more likely that he would send me off to go starve and die of dehydration.

Suddenly I felt a pair of meaty, huge, hairless paws grabbed me around my middle, and I felt fear sparking through me, causing me to stiffen before freezing as the Twoleg kit (which I hadn't seen since I had been staring to intently at the water) pressed me roughly to it. Its skin, even through the weird fur it was wearing, felt hot and uncomfortable, and as the tom chuckled at my expression and the fear rolling off of me, I felt as if I might pass out with exhaustion and fear.

Then a Twoleg screamed at its kit through the entrance of the nest, and the paws relaxed. There was a pause, and then I felt the kit shift, leaning down to set me gently on the ground before removing its sweaty paws off my flank. I felt like taking the longest wash possible just to get it off of me, but I had more pressing matters at the moment.

"Looks like they'll let you stay," the tom said, and I stared at him. "I'm Jack by the way. Smoke is somewhere around here, but he'll come soon to meet you. What's your name?"

I was too thirty and hungry to respond, and immediately streaked across the grass to the pond. Dipping my muzzle down to drink, I felt like sticking my whole head into the water if that's what it took to get rid of the burning ache in my throat. But instead I took hurried, huge sips, trying to take it all at once. There was a soft rustle near me, and I knew that Jack was watching me as I quenched the fire, and then stuck my bloody and gritty paws in the water. I didn't pay any attention to him though.

When I was ready to try fishing, I perched at the side of the pool before remembering Jack. "I can fish here, right?"

"Fish?" He said, as if he never heard of the word before.

"Yeah. I'm starving."

"And you want to eat the fish?"

"Yeah." So? Who cares? I'm about to die here!

"Wow, okay. But I think that my owners will get mad at you. How about having some of my food instead? I didn't eat all of it anyway."

I nodded, uncertain. What did kittypets eat? I never really paid attention to them when I saw one, so I didn't really know. Hopefully whatever it was it tasted like fish.

He led me up near the nest, and I slowed down as we got closer. I didn't trust Jack, much less the Twolegs, so I didn't know if this was a trap or not. But as he got close enough, he walked across the smooth stone that looked like something I had heard a kittypet call a _patio. _Weird word. As Jack walked across the patio, he walked up to something before turning to me. "Are you going to come up here and eat or am I going to have to give it to you?"

"I'd rather you give it to me." Probably sounded like a prissy kittypet, but I didn't really care. I couldn't walk blindly into a trap.

Jack sighed, and then began to nudge it slowly to me. When he got it near the grass, I walked up to it and looked down. It was a dish half-full with something that looked mushy and disgusting. Leaning down, I curiously and cautiously licked some of it, and cringed inwardly at the taste. It tasted nothing like the rich tang of fish or squirrel, but I swallowed it down anyway, taking it in concentrated doses.

As I finished it off, a rough, strong voice sounded. "Found a new friend, Jack?" I looked up and saw a dark grey tom, fur shining softly in the glow from the nest as he walked across the patio. His eyes were a deep dark brown, and I felt a weird flutter in my chest when he looked at me. "She's pretty, I'll give her that, but I don't think she's your type."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Smoke this is…um…what did you say your name was again?" He asked me.

"I didn't say anything about my name, and it's Petal." A fake name, as well as a fake history that I would have to come up with later. Just taking precautions.

"Petal, this is my buddy Smoke. Smoke, this riffraff is Petal."

I ignored the name and instead focused on Smoke. His dark eyes made him impossible to read, and for some reason I found myself liking that. "Got a place for me to stay the night?"


	2. Weirdness and Lies

**So Petalpaw has been accepted into a Twoleg nest. Will she stay or will she move on? Does she like Smoke? **

**Also this chapter takes place a half a moon after the epilogue, just a forewarning. **

**-Lilith**

Kittypets are weird.

Now, being raised in RiverClan, I always knew they were a little bit different than what I was used to. Most of the time though, the fact that they were soft and weak were more focused on than anything else. So it took me a while to grasp just how weird they really are.

Reasons why they are weird number one: They act like they own the place. Just the other day, Jack and Smoke chased another kittypet away from the fence just because she was too close to it. 'Getting to close to their home,' they had called it. I wanted to yell at them that it wasn't their home at all: it was the Twolegs'. But I kept my muzzle shut and went with it.

Reasons why they are weird number two: Thunderpaths aren't a big deal.

"Why are you so afraid of something that can't kill you?" Smoke asked me one day. Stupidly enough, instead of running across, he began to stroll leisurely before stopping halfway through to turn and look at me. "It's not like the road is going to rise up and attack you."

I found myself swallowing my indignation. Nobody was afraid of the Thunderpath: it was what roared on it that scared me. Monsters had taken lives before, had crippled and injured others. I knew for a fact that many moons ago, a ThunderClan apprentice had been crippled by a Monster, and had to give up on her dream of being a warrior to become a medicine cat instead. It was the vile Tigerstar's fault of course, but no one felt safe near Thunderpaths any more than they did before.

"I just have bad experiences with them, alright." I say awkwardly. He didn't press me, but seemed to understand. Or at least faked it pretty well. "Now let's go home: I'm a bit hungry." Another lie, but he fell for it.

Reasons why they are weird number three: They are worried about the littlest things.

Seanne, the she-cat next door, is the only female cat in the area I can actually call a friend. I mean sure, Jack and Smoke are nice enough, but I need somebody I can go to for information that only she-cats would know.

She can get easily distracted though, which means that I am often told useless things when I visit. "I heard from Rose –the cat from down the street- that her brother is coming with his Twolegs to visit her. He doesn't have a girlfriend, you don't have a boyfriend…totally perfect, right!" She said in a bubbly tone one afternoon.

"Yeah," I said absentmindedly. Personally I really didn't care about Rose or her brother, but I knew that I could use her for information. "So, Seanne…have you heard about any cats here that are a bit…oh, I don't know…different from you and me?"

"Different how?" She asked.

"Wilder. Vicious. Stuff like that."

"Nothing like that at all. Why? Worrying about an abusive ex?"

X what? She says the weirdest things.

"Not at all. I'm just wondering." I said innocently.

"Oh. Well, speaking of worrying, I heard that I might have my salon appointment for tomorrow rescheduled. I haven't had my fur glossed in weeks! I'm going to look like a wreck!"

I stopped listening after that.

"You alright?" I heard Jack say behind me, and I realized I had been staring vacantly at the fence for the past ten minutes.

"Fine. Just tired." I lied again. It was getting hard to keep up with all of the lying I've done recently.

"Come inside then." He said, and with a swish of his tail, strolled inside. I followed behind, wishing I could stay out here instead of cooped up in the nest.

"So, Petal." I felt the urge to correct him and suppressed it. Petal was my name now. "I know that you have a difficult past, but can you tell me some of it? I know Smoke might be a little quiet and weird, but you can trust me, right?"

I couldn't trust him with anything, but I didn't say that aloud. "Yeah, I guess." I say as we walked across the smooth floor. "When I was born, I had three siblings. We were separated, forced to go live with other owners, away from our mother and father." Lying through my teeth. "My owner was abusive though, and repeatedly beat me for doing the littlest things. I-it was almost impossible to escape from the torture, but I managed.

"I moved on, tried living with a group of loners. They viciously attacked me, and I found myself starving, dying of thirst and infected wounds on the side of the street. I…" I had choked up, the guilt of lying feeling like a weight on my heart.

Jack misunderstood though. He thought my 'past' was too unbearable to talk about. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You don't have to continue."

Thank StarClan for that -I wasn't sure I could keep lying to him. I nodded instead, then crossed over to my little nest made out of the warmest, fuzziest pelt I've ever felt before in my life, and closed my eyes sleepily. "Thank you Jack." I murmured.

There was a pause, and I heard him move away. I didn't dare open my eyes though: I could smell Smoke nearby. There was a soft padding of paws, and then I heard Smoke speaking to Jack in a hushed whisper. "Is she okay?"

"Just tired. Nothing too big." He replied.

"Ah." There was a pause, and to make the ruse more believable, I began to fake snore softly. After about a minute of this, I heard Smoke speak up. "You like her?"

"Nah. I have my eyes on another girl. What about you?" Jack responded, and was met with silence. "That's what I thought," he said smugly.

I didn't want to know what Smoke thought about me though. I couldn't let myself waste time on petty things such as stupid crushes and ridiculous stories. My main priority right now is to survive, and anything else doesn't matter.

**So I still have a budding idea for Wilting Thyme. I just haven't been able to get it down on paper yet. Don't hate me: I've been doing some freelance work lately, so I may need some time to update. **

**-Lilith**


	3. Long Walks

**So, awesomely enough, I got to work more on Wilting Thyme than I thought I would! I wrote a lot of chapters in advance for that story so I just need to find time to release them one at a time just to make you hate me. Still doing freelancing, but I'm starting to get a hang of it. **

**Comment!**

**-Lilith**

The next few days seemed to go in clockwork: wake up early in the morning, force down food, sunbathe outside until sunhigh, then go walk around for most of the afternoon before coming home, telling some story about how I had been over talking to some random cat down the street when really I had been missing RiverClan. After nibbling through dinner, I would curl up in my nest, claiming that I was exhausted, and catch a few hours of sleep before sneaking out to go walk again.

And, to be honest, I was doing a pretty good job. The other day I heard Jack and Smoke talking about how well I was blending in with the other cats. "Violet really seems to like her," Jack said earnestly. "And Hazel thinks she's a good influence on her new kittens."

Silence followed, and I suspected that Smoke was thinking over what he said. But then again, Smoke is the quiet one, so that could be his reply.

"What do you think?" Jack asked after a moment.

"I think she is bored and missing her old home, Jack." His friend said in a surprisingly soft voice. "I think she's putting on a show."

Well, almost a good job.

Something about Smoke makes me feel weird. While Jack is an open book (an arrogantly cocky open book), Smoke is a complete puzzle, and the whole silence thing doesn't help either. No matter how hard I try, he always seems to see right through my lies and guess correctly on everything.

One time, he caught me walking around. I remember creeping up one of the Thunderpaths –streets- on one hot day, the sun baking the filthy concrete and roasting me through my fur, but that didn't distract me from thinking about the things I had left behind. Thymepaw, Twigpaw, Firepaw, my mother's grave.

My mother had been a great, loyal she-cat to the very end. My father, Flintheart, is still alive, but I can still see the echoing pain in his eyes whenever somebody mentions Leopardnose. Her story was a bittersweet one: Leopardnose's mother and father were both killed before she could even officially become a warrior. Her mother, Snowberry, had died just a few days after giving birth to her one and only kit, killed by greencough. Snowberry's mate, Ospreywing, followed shortly in a fight against ShadowClan. Leopardnose carried on through most of her life, eventually falling in love with Flintheart and giving birth to me. I was only a kit when Flintheart decided to spend some time with my mother and took her out of the camp, leaving Birdsong, who was a warrior at the time, to watch over me. Next thing I know I saw Flintheart rushing to Raincloud, claiming that his mate had been attacked by foxes. Raincloud and Daisyleaf, who had been an apprentice at the time, rushed to go see her, but by the time they got there, she was too close to death to do anything. Herbs didn't work, neither did Flintheart's pleading and begging, and eventually Leopardnose rasped that she was too close to StarClan to do anything and to let her die in peace. Redsong, who had been Firepaw's mother, had been best friends with my mother, and named her only daughter Firekit after the way Leopardnose seemed to make others around her happy, like a fire burning through the forest.

Ever since her death, I would try to visit her grave at least once every five days. She was buried by the shore, her body submerged underneath the grey pebbles that lined the shore of the lake. It had been her favorite place to think, I was told, and every time I walk past the shore I remember her.

The sadness that clouded my mind thickened. Today was the day when I would try to go visit her, go sit by her grave and weep for her soul and pray she was in StarClan. I wanted to at least pray for her here, but I didn't know whether or not StarClan reached this far away from the forest. Probably not.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me, and I whirled around to see Smoke. His brown eyes were concerned, curious but mostly worried for me. "Do you mind if I join you?" He said quietly, and I gestured for him to go ahead.

We walked for a couple of blocks, our paws burning from the concrete, when he spoke. "I know that you're still scared and are trying to understand," he said slowly, as if he had learned a different language and was trying to speak it for the first time. "And I get that. But I want you to know that even though I may be quiet, I still listen."

I stared at him for a moment. That was practically a speech for Smoke. "Uh, yeah. Okay." I said awkwardly.

Slipping back into silence, we walked on for another few blocks before he spoke again. "So, Petal. What's your favorite color?"

"Amber." The color of my mother's eyes. "What about you?"

"Pale yellow."

"Like the color of those things that the owners eat? The long curved thingies?"

"Those are bananas, and no." He chuckled in a low voice. "Softer, a weaker color."

Then I realized he had been looking right at my eyes, as if inspecting them. "Are you hinting that I'm weak?" I growled.

"No." His voice was solemn. "Just saying I like the color of your eyes."

I immediately felt stupid for accusing him of that, but I shoved it down. Surprising both him and me, I was the one to ask the next question. "What's your favorite place to take a nap?"

We went on like that for hours, talking, learning things about each other and engaging in playful arguments. I learned that he liked to sleep in the late afternoon; his favorite place to stay was on top of the nest so he could watch the world go by; he secretly liked it when someone pressed their nose to his forehead, even if it was in a friendly way. We laughed over how annoying it was when the girl kittypets talked extremely fast, and we walked in silence when we uncovered something sad about the other. I told him that my mother had been killed when I was young and in turn he told me about his family.

"My mother, Ember, was a beautiful light grey she-cat with long, feathery fur, tabby stripes, and the brightest green eyes I've ever seen. My father was the opposite though: he had muscles and long legs and was a mixture of many shades of brown, splotches here and there. His eyes were dark brown, and his name suited him well. We all called him Bear, since the way he looked when his fur grew out reminded us of bears that we saw on these devices that show moving images but in a box. Despite his name and his appearance, he was a real softy at heart, and loved my mother very much.

"I was born with two other kittens, and I was the youngest. My older sister, who was the oldest out of all of us, looked like Ember. My older brother, who is the second oldest in the family, looked like Bear. I was a mixture of the two of them, gifted with my father's eyes and my mother's fur. Kind of the oddball in the group, since Shell and Ember were beautiful, and Bear and Sam were strong, while I was a weird mix of both. I got a lot of weird looks because of my appearance.

"Anyway, when I was only a couple months old" -what's a month? Is that like a moon? – "I was given away by my owners to live with Jack. I don't know where the others went, but I remember seeing Ember's face when I was carried away. She looked so cold, like she didn't care, and it scared me. She knew it was going to happen and didn't care anyway."

Tense silence ensued, until he finished his story. "Ever since then I've been kind of closed off and quiet. I don't let anybody in just so they can wreck me like she did."

In a way, I understood. He was being careful, cautious, trying to protect himself and the ones he loved. Something that a clan cat would do. But in another way, it didn't make any sense at all. Kittypets were supposed to have lovely, easy lives, right? Not supposed to twist a claw or stretch a muscle too far, not have to worry about who not to trust.

I guess I was wrong about him.

Smoke opened his mouth, and I realized he wasn't done yet. "But then you came along. I remember the day that Jack found you, walking around, looking so hungry and tired and full of fear and worry. How quiet and guarded you were, how even Jack couldn't crack your barriers. Somehow though, you managed, without saying anything at all, to crack mine."

His eyes were full of something, some emotion. I didn't know what it was, but it seemed to match the fluttering of my heart and the sweatiness in my fur that I was feeling. I felt slightly at unease, like I was talking to an oddly attractive stranger. And there was something about the way that he looked at me that made me feel like I was the only cat in the world besides him.

"I-I feel as if I know you somehow." Smoke said in a much quieter voice, leaning closer. "Is that too weird?"

I wanted to reply, to say that he was being ridiculous, but all I could manage was, "uh…" as I stared into his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes, brimming with emotion and youth and wisdom that he had earned from years of experience and such beauty that even I couldn't comprehend. He was staring at me in a way that made the rest of the world fuzzy, that made the sun seem to dim, because he was my focus. He was my light. He was everything I needed to survive and everything I could possibly imagine.

But then I managed to speak again. "Yeah, I guess," I said, laughing softly and weakly. His intense gaze made me feel like my bones were turning to jelly and my voice hoarse.

He then looked away and backed up some. "Erm, yeah." He repeated shyly, awkwardly. Then he looked up at the setting sun and murmured something under his breath. "We ought to start heading back if we want to make it by nightfall."

"Oh yeah. You're right," I said, mentally cursing the time. Of course, right when we were about to have a moment, the sun just had to start sinking. Thank you daylight savings time! (Being sarcastic here)  
We walked the rest of the way in awkward silence, save only the soft scratching of our paws against the concrete and noises of the life around us. As we approached the fence, Jack bet us there, hopping up to face us both. "Whoa, are you two okay?" He asked, sounding only slightly arrogant. "'Cause you two look like Smoke just offered to let you run away with him out of love when everybody knows you've got your eyes on me." He grinned, but I ignored him and leaped up the fence in a single stroke.

"I'm not in the mood, Jack." Why must he make everything worse than it seems? It had only been a weird staring contest, right? Or at least that's how I saw it. I hope Smoke saw it that way too.

As I headed inside, I heard Jack talking to Smoke. "What happened, man? You look like you've seen better days."

I didn't wait to hear his reply, but instead vanished inside to eat before walking over to my nest and curling up, resting my tail across my nose as I stared blankly at the fur along my back. What did happen today? Was I right about what occurred between us? That it was just a fluke and nothing more?

No matter how much I wanted to believe it, I knew that even if I tried to lie to myself, it wouldn't work. And if it did, it would work temporarily.

Because no matter how much I wanted it to not be true, I was falling in love with a kittypet.

**Petalpaw/Petal and Smoke! Possible couple! **

**So what does this have to do with Petalpaw and the three kits? Why did one of them have tortoiseshell fur if Petalpaw doesn't like Jack? And don't let your imagination run that wild, since this is a K+ story. **

**Comment!**

**-Lilith**


End file.
